Page 69 of Twisted Trails (Rogue Riders Duet #2)

FOUR MONTHS LATER

Alaina

I slam the controller down on the couch and throw my arms up like I just won the fucking Olympics. “You loser!”

Luc groans from the other end of the sofa, flopping back in theatrical agony. “ Merde , you cheat.”

“Oh, come on.” I grin and collapse sideways into the cushions. “You say that every time I beat you.”

“Because it’s true every time,” he grumbles, but that smirk is tugging at his lips anyway.

The crutch that was leaning on the couch falls to the floor with a clatter, thanks to all the movement, but I don’t need it anymore.

My leg is still a little stiff, especially in the mornings, and I’ve got at least two more months before I’m cleared for anything high-impact, but I’m walking. Training, even. I take the stairs without bracing myself. I carry my own shit. I don’t wince every time I sit down.

It’s been four months since the World Cup, since that moment Mason crossed the line and the world spun on its axis, and in the strangest, sweetest plot twist of my life, all three of them just moved in after the season was over .

They didn’t even ask, just filled the guest rooms with their shit, started leaving energy drink cans in weird places, and fell into arguments over whose turn it was to do laundry.

Somehow, in the wreckage of a career, a season, and a secret, I found something I never thought I could have.

A life after.

Tilting my head back, I stare up at the ceiling.

It’s been good.

So fucking good.

But not easy.

I had my second hip surgery three months ago, and apparently, Dane was right.

Sometimes, more than one surgery is needed to fix something.

The pain wasn’t the same after this one, not even close, and with the stronger pain medication, the road to recovery was fucking child’s play compared to the first time.

There was one night a couple of weeks ago when there was a flash of the old pain, the kind that used to own me, and I needed the crutch again for a few hours until the medication kicked in.

The guys saw it, and ever since, I’ve had three overprotective idiots shadowing my every move, prepared to stop me from crumbling if I stand too fast.

I hated it at first.

Now, I kind of love it.

The way Finn slips protein into my smoothies, thinking I won’t notice, how Mason double-checks the tread on my shoes before we go for a walk, and Luc curses at the heating pad like it personally wronged me if it’s not hot enough.

They were there for all of it. The pre-surgery panic, the meltdown two days before, the night I cried because I wasn’t ready to go under again, but they didn’t flinch.

Luc climbed into bed with me and made me laugh. Mason talked me through the stats, the recovery rates, the logic of it all. Finn didn’t say much, just held my hand and rubbed circles on my wrist like he could tether me to him.

This time, when I woke up, blurry and high as hell as I once again slurred, “Kiss, please,” Luc and Mason didn’t hesitate. They grinned at each other and kissed like it was the best idea I’d ever had, while Finn made sure to give me my kiss.

Dane was there, too, rolling his eyes, and Dad came in later. He was the one to secure me the best surgeon in the country.

And élise.

God, élise flew in a day after the surgery and never left my side. She cooked. She cleaned. She cussed at the guys in French when they got in her way and tucked me in like I was five and had a fever. She took care of me and them like she’d been doing it her whole life.

She is the closest thing I’ve ever had to a mom. I didn’t know how much I needed that until she looked at me with those gentle, bossy eyes and told me I was healing beautifully.

The medication worked.

The pain was manageable.

But the difference from the last time wasn’t just in the pills or the surgery, it was in the weight. I wasn’t carrying it all alone or leaning too heavily on Dane.

Having them, needing them, didn’t make me weak, just like being loved this loudly wasn’t a burden I had to earn.

And thanks to all of that, I actually let myself heal. No pretending I was fine while swallowing painkillers like candy, no convincing myself that if I just pushed hard enough, I could skip over the ugly part.

I took my time.

I let the bruises fade, the scar tissue settle, and my body rebuild without demanding it hurry the fuck up. Somewhere between the walks down the driveway and the slow return to strength, I realized I’d never given myself that grace before.

I remember sitting on the porch one evening, wind biting at my socks, thinking about how different everything might’ve been if I’d just paused the first time.

If I hadn’t been so hell-bent on proving I was unbreakable.

But when I mentioned this to my therapist, she reminded me in her gentle, you’re-full-of-shit way that I didn’t have this support system back then.

I didn’t have them .

Finn comes walking out of the kitchen, picks up the crutch from where it slid off the couch, and props it back into place.

“Did you eat?” he asks, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead.

I grin up at him. “I slayed.”

He chuckles. “No, baby girl. I meant food.”

“ Non .” Luc chimes in from the other side of the couch. “For Petite , it was more important to beat me again and pretend yesterday’s win wasn’t a fluke.”

Toulouse is curled on his lap, snoring softly, and Luc looks way too smug for someone who just got his ass handed to him for my taste.

“Keep talking,” I mutter. “I’ll beat you with the crutch next.”

Finn groans. “Can we please act like adults and at least get some breakfast in you before we start beating each other up?”

Mason strolls in with Bristol perched on his shoulder. Luc gave him the rat for his birthday, and he’s just as cute as Toulouse, though not nearly as sleepy. I simply pretend that the fact that his tail is even more naked doesn’t bother me.

Mason grins and ruffles Luc’s mullet just to piss him off. “ Greer, you should already know when Tweedledee’s with Tweedledum, we’ve got to be the adults.”

Finn nods solemnly. “I’m making eggs,” he announces, walking toward the kitchen. “And you’re all gonna eat like actual athletes for once.”

“Thanks, man,” Mason yells, dropping down next to me with a groan like sitting is a sport.

My phone vibrates on the coffee table, and one glance tells me it’s the FaceTime call I’ve been waiting for.

“Finn!” I yell as I scoop it up, and he comes rushing back again, making wide eyes at me when I show him it’s Piper calling. “I hope this is a happy call and not a crying call.”

He presses his lips together like he’s not convinced either, and I swipe to answer. The second Piper’s face pops up, I let out a relieved breath. She’s squealing already, shoving her hand toward the screen so close that it’s blurry, but I already know what I’m seeing.

“Oh my God.” I gasp. “Congratulations!”

When she pulls her hand back a little, we can all see the massive diamond gleaming on her ring finger, which I helped Dane choose.

I launch off the couch with a shriek. “Welcome to the Crews family, bitch!”

Finn chuckles. “Sit down, Al. You’re still healing.”

“Screw that,” I yell, bouncing on the balls of my feet. “My girl just got engaged! To my brother!”

Piper laughs and pulls the phone back even more, so Dane comes into view, holding her close, and grinning against the top of her head like he just won the lottery. A dreamy ocean sunset peeks out behind them, making the whole moment look like a damn movie.

They’re in California, visiting Piper’s family for the holidays. But mostly, it was so Dane could get her dad’s blessing, which he apparently gave him after a serious talk, making my brother almost piss his pants.

Dane told me all about it during our call last night, while I tried to pep-talk him into stop being so nervous and finally getting down on one knee.

I’m still grinning when she says goodbye abruptly, yelling something about calling her sister next.

Fuck.

I can’t even put into words how happy I am for Dane. He deserves every bit of luck coming his way.

Luc grins, nudging my feet with his. “So, you like that?”

I choke on a laugh. “Of course I like that.”

“Want a ring too?” His grin goes wicked, eyes twinkling with mischief. “You could be a Delacroix. Maman would love that.”

Mason pushes his shoulder. “If anything, she’s gonna be a Payne. ”

I snort and roll my eyes. “I like Crews, thank you very much.”

Finn chuckles from behind me, and I glance over just as he lifts his shoulder with a lazy smile. “I’ll take your name, no problem. You know I always wanted to be a Crews.”

Something in my chest softens as I look at the three of them, this beautiful mess of a life, and the absurdity of that conversation suddenly hits me. They’re arguing over my last name like it means something or could even capture what we are to each other.

I shake my head, grinning as I stretch my legs across Mason’s lap. “You guys are cute, but I don’t want us to be married.”

Luc gasps like I’ve stabbed him. “ Petite! ”

I roll my eyes at the dramatics but reach instinctively for the leather band on my wrist. My fingers find the familiar shape of the metal link tucked into the braided cord, a piece of Mason’s chain, salvaged from the day everything snapped and somehow, miraculously, held.

I’d made one for all four of us, each with a single link of that broken chain woven in.

Finn wears his with the same quiet loyalty he always carries, Luc flashes his every chance he gets, and Mason keeps his tucked under his sleeve, but I’ve seen him turn it over in his fingers when he thinks no one is watching.

A chain that broke, snapped under pressure, the pieces woven into something new. A quiet promise and proof that broken things don’t stay broken when they choose to hold.

“We’re a team,” I murmur, looking up at Mason, who smiles softly at me. “And that feels better than marriage ever could.”